


Against The Rules

by cestlavieminako



Category: Kamen Rider Zero-One
Genre: AND HERE WE GO, I've been wanting to write Gai being an awful bastard since he first showed up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23191903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cestlavieminako/pseuds/cestlavieminako
Summary: Fuwa is caught sneaking around Zaia Enterprises, and Gai decides that stray dogs need to be taught a lesson in respect.
Relationships: Amatsu Gai/Fuwa Isamu
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	Against The Rules

**Author's Note:**

> This is absolute trash that I've been wanting to write for a while now, and since I've got all sorts of time due to social isolation, hey, what a great time to write Gai being an absolutely irredeemable bastard, am I right? Although it was kinda fun writing from his perspective in the beginning, I hope it's not too ooc, this is my first fic with him and I tried my best.
> 
> I apologize to Fuwa for being awful to him, and I blame Sleepy Sapphire entirely for coming up with this idea and encouraging me to write it.

A tone sounded from Gai’s watch, and he glanced down at it to see that the head of security was trying to contact him. 

He frowned. This was rare, indeed.

“Amatsu-san? I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but I thought you should know that we picked up a suspicious man in the building.”

And this was his concern _why_? Security should know what to do with unauthorized people in the building; the man should have been contacting the police instead of bothering him with such a trivial matter.

“I’m only bringing it to your attention, sir, because I believe it’s someone from AIMS. At first, I thought he had business with you, but the way he was skulking around…”

Someone from AIMS? A small smile tugged up the corners of Gai’s lips. “Describe him.”

“Lanky, messy hair…very loud.”

And, indeed, Gai could hear a commotion in the background of the call, which confirmed his suspicions. Well, well…what could have possibly brought that stray dog to Zaia Enterprises, sniffing around like he belonged there? He would never blend in with the well-groomed professionals that moved throughout the building. His mere appearance would make it obvious that he was intruding. 

“Sir? Shall I contact the authorities?”

“No. Bring him to my office,” Gai replied, tapping another button on his watch and watching the office features melt away. He should have just enough time to brew some tea before his visitor arrived. “And do try to not frighten him _too_ much.”

*

A short time later, there was a knock at the door, and the head of security stepped in with another guard, who had a firm grip on Fuwa’s coat and the shoulder beneath it. The pup looked angry enough to spit, but Gai could also make out the slightest hint of fear in his eyes.

“Thank you, gentlemen. I’m sure Fuwa-san must have simply gotten lost. It’s not every day that you find yourself in one of the largest buildings in the city, isn’t that right?”

Fuwa glared at him silently.

“Thank you both for your attention to detail. That will be all,” Gai said, dismissing them. “Fuwa-san, come have a seat. I was just about to pour some tea.”

He saw Fuwa’s mouth twitch, clearly wanting to spew forth an inelegant, profane response, but he seemed to think better of it. Perhaps he was smarter than Gai took him for.

It took a moment, but Fuwa finally crossed the distance between them, looking rather apprehensive as every step he took echoed in the sparsely furnished room. He paused beside the minimal furniture—two seats, much like a cross between a loveseat and a fainting couch, both pure white and extremely comfortable. A glass and white wood coffee table, immaculately polished and free of dust or streaks, separated the two seats. To the right, where Gai was standing, sat a silver tea service cart.

Finally, Fuwa sat down (heavily, like a child; he probably didn’t even notice how wonderfully comfortable and supportive the couch was). Gai grimaced inwardly at how uncultured he was. Slouched forward, elbows resting on his knees, legs splayed. Terrible manners.

Gai turned his attention to the small pot of tea that sat on the cart, and he placed two cups on saucers, before filling them both, inhaling the fragrant blend. One of his favorites. He doubted a mongrel dog would be able to appreciate it, but why not give him a taste of luxury? It was surely a far cry from whatever cheap swill he normally drank.

He placed one cup on the table before Fuwa, then placed the other on the opposite side, where he would sit in just a moment. “How rude of me. Do you take anything in your tea?”

Fuwa shook his head once, rather abruptly. “This is just fine.”

Gai turned back to the cart, picking up the tongs to pluck a single sugar cube from a bowl.

It was barely audibly—but entirely expected—when Fuwa slid their cups around, switching them. He’d watched Gai pour it, yet he didn’t trust him.

Terribly rude.

Gai dropped the sugar cube into his cup, not letting on that he noticed that it wasn’t in the exact same spot, that a few drops had spilled over the rim of the cup and now lay in a tiny pool on the saucer. He replaced the tongs, then took a seat, stirring the liquid, before taking a sip.

Perfect. 

Fuwa, on the other hand, looked like a bull in a china shop, trying to pick up the delicate cup without looking foolish. Finally, he gave up on the handle altogether, practically picking it up by the rim as he took a long swallow of the tea.

“So, what brought you to Zaia today?” Gai finally asked. “Did you have a legitimate reason? Or were you playing spy?”

Fuwa’s cheeks slowly went red, and Gai knew he’d hit the nail on the head. 

But no, the pup wouldn’t simply keep quiet and learn from the experience. 

“I know you’re up to some sketchy shit, aside from what you’re trying to pull with Hiden. But if the news were to find out that you were the one who made that Ark thing the way it is? That’s it’s actually _your_ fault that Humagears go crazy? All those deaths from the Daybreak incident would be on your head. Wouldn’t that just make your stocks drop.”

Fuwa bared his teeth in a feral smile, clearly thinking he had the upper hand, and he drained the rest of his tea before getting to his feet. “I’ll find what I’m looking for, one way or the other.”

Then he turned to leave.

Or he tried to, at least. 

Gai smirked as he watched Fuwa take one step, then halt, swaying unsteadily on his feet. “Oh dear…are you all right, Fuwa-san? You look unwell.”

Fuwa jerked around to look at him, and the abrupt movement seemed to upset his already delicate equilibrium. He stumbled, reaching out to grab the back of the couch to support himself. “What the fuck..? But…I switched the cups..!”

Gai slowly rose to his feet, watching Fuwa sag onto the couch. “Clearly you never stopped to consider that I’ve built up an immunity to several drugs over the years. In my line of work, one can never be too careful.”

By the time he finished speaking, however, Fuwa’s eyes were closed.

That had worked so much better than he ever would have imagined, Gai thought to himself.

*

When Fuwa opened his eyes, he immediately squeezed them shut again. The room was too bright, and it felt as if it were moving. He needed to not drink so much.

Wait.

It took several minutes for his sluggish brain to process everything, before he realized he hadn’t been drinking. He’d gone to Zaia Enterprises, he’d been spotted by that damn security guard, and they’d brought him to that bastard Amatsu’s office.

The tea had been drugged.

Fuwa opened his eyes once again, tamping back both nausea and fear as he blinked rapidly, trying to get his vision to clear up. He hadn’t left the building, he knew that for sure. He was probably still laying on that stupid little couch in Amatsu’s office.

No, that wasn’t right. Whatever he was laying on was larger and somehow even more comfortable than that couch had been. He wanted to just close his eyes and drift back to sleep. His body didn’t want to cooperate with him; he couldn’t fathom sitting up when he could barely move his arm.

His fingers brushed against something metallic amidst the softness of whatever he was laying on, and he tried to grab it. Maybe he could use it as a weapon.

The bright featureless blob surrounding him finally became visible as his vision sharpened, and Fuwa frowned at the inexplicable sight. He was in a room with mirrored walls, and he was currently laying on a large bed, nested in the middle of a soft pristine white down comforter.

And he was naked. 

Fuwa tried to push himself up on his elbows, but he still felt as though he were out of his body. 

He wouldn’t panic. He _refused_ to panic. He needed to remain calm, and…

“Oh, you’re finally awake.”

Fuwa heard the sound of a door closing, but he couldn’t locate it—damn all these mirrors, anyway!—as Amatsu stepped into the room, approaching the bed like a predator would approach its wounded prey before swooping in for the kill.

_Why the fuck did I drink that tea?_

“I suppose you thought yourself clever, switching the cups like that,” Amatsu said, and Fuwa managed to turn his head slightly, watching him shrug off his suit jacket, folding it over the back of a nearby chair, before removing his turtleneck.

Why was he taking his clothes off, Fuwa wondered, his brain sluggishly trying to provide him with an answer, even as he absently noted that Amatsu’s terrible fashion choices were hiding a rather excellent physique. 

“A man in my position can’t be too careful,” Amatsu continued, folding the turtleneck neatly and precisely, before laying it on the chair, his hands going to his belt and unfastening it. “I’ve built up an immunity to so many drugs over the years. The one I used today gave the tea a rather excellent flavor, don’t you think?”

As Amatsu began to draw his pants down, pausing to palm the bulge that had been contained until that moment, everything hit Fuwa with frightening clarity, and he gathered all of his strength, planning to launch himself from the bed and find the damn exit. And if he had to smash his fist into Amatsu’s pretty boy face on the way? Well, wouldn’t that be unfortunate.

He managed to shove himself forward, flying off the mattress, but his body couldn’t do anything beyond that, and he tumbled to the floor with a grunt of pain, landing in a heap on a very plush white carpet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a voice hissed in his ear, and something yanked taut around Fuwa’s neck, drawing him back against Amatsu. He couldn’t even bring his hands up to try and loosen the pressure; his arms dangled uselessly, a weak choking sound escaping his lips.

“You’re such a disobedient mutt,” Amatsu continued, but at least the pressure on his neck abruptly vanished, and Fuwa sucked in a lungful of air, only to expel it in a choked cry as a hand struck his ass, followed by a slick finger pushing roughly inside him. “You don’t even deserve any kind of preparation, but I don’t want to make it unpleasant for myself.”

Far too quickly, a second finger was added, and Fuwa whimpered as Amatsu worked him furiously, obviously without a care to Fuwa’s discomfort.

“I’m sure you want to say something like ‘you won’t get away with this’, don’t you? But it’s too hard to talk right now, or move, isn’t it?” Amatsu said, working his fingers in deeper, feeling himself grow even harder as Fuwa let loose with another cry of discomfort. “And I think I _will_ get away with this. After all, _you’re_ the one at fault for sneaking into my place of business. Security can confirm that. Surely AIMS would reprimand you, if not outright fire you. And will you actually tell someone that the CEO of Zaia Enterprises decided to discipline you? No, I somehow don’t think you will.”

“Shut up,” Fuwa said. Or tried to say, rather; the slurred noises that left his lips bored very little resemblance to actual words.

That pressure around his neck returned, and Fuwa could do little to fight it.

“Disobedient dogs should listen to their masters,” Gai stated, his voice little more than a whisper against Fuwa’s ear.

Then something much larger than a few fingers was pushing into his body, and Fuwa’s mouth dropped open with a choked gurgling sound, the pressure against his neck increasing even further.

A hot breath was expelled against Fuwa’s ear, and his entire body trembled as the presence in his body drew back, then pushed back into him, much more abruptly, and he managed another weak sound, spots dancing before his eyes.

If Amatsu was going to rape him, then he wanted to pass out. He didn’t want to endure any more of this.

As if hearing Fuwa’s thoughts, the pressure on his neck let up, and Fuwa struggled to breathe and not scream as Amatsu drew back and pushed in once again.

“See? It’s getting easier to take me, isn’t it, Isamu-chan?”

Fuwa wanted to tell him it definitely was _not_ , or to shut up and not call him by his name, or to go to hell, or smash the back of his head into Amatsu’s face, or any one of a million acts of defiance. But in the end, all he could do was slur, “Stop…”

“Stop? But we’ve only just started.”

Amatsu’s fingers closed around Fuwa’s shaft, and he whimpered as he realized that he’d already been getting hard. Why? He wasn’t enjoying it, that was for sure. Then his hand was sliding along Fuwa’s length, coaxing him to full hardness, even as he continued to thrust into him.

“Look at yourself.” When Fuwa looked away, he felt that pressure on his neck again, yanking his head up and pressing his body flush against Amatsu’s, and he had no choice but to open his eyes.

The pressure around his neck was, in fact, a white leather collar, buckled a bit tighter than it should have comfortably been. Attached to it was a short chain—the metallic item his fingers had encountered when he’d woken up, Fuwa realized—and it was wrapped around Amatsu’s free hand, giving Fuwa a very short range of motion. Under Amatsu’s ministrations, his cock was painfully erect, beads of precum glistening from the slit. His legs were spread so far apart, it was a wonder that he hadn’t fallen over.

If it hadn’t been for that grip on the leash, Fuwa was certain he would have toppled over. He had no strength to move or fight back, and with every thrust Amatsu made, his body shook from weakness and overstimulation.

“Hmm, so you _can_ be obedient,” Amatsu mused, his hand moving from Fuwa’s shaft to his hip. 

He released his grip on the leash, and Fuwa found himself toppling over, barely managing to keep from landing facefirst on the carpet. His entire body was deadweight, but he managed to turn his head so he wouldn’t suffocate.

Amatsu’s pace quickened into something bordering on brutal, his body slamming against Fuwa’s, the sound of flesh meeting flesh loud in the room, drowning out Fuwa’s pitiful moans. It hurt, he just wanted it to _end_..!

Amatsu’s body shuddered, his hips stuttering against Fuwa’s body, and a low groan echoed in the room as Fuwa felt hot release shooting inside him. That was it, Amatsu had cum, it was over, perhaps he could slip back into unconsciousness now, and when he woke up, his body would be in better shape so he could leave this god forsaken place…

Amatsu tugged Fuwa up against him, and his fingers wrapped around his shaft once more. “You want to cum too, don’t you, mutt? For all of your pitiful whining, I think you enjoyed it.”

Fuwa closed his eyes, not wanting to see any of it, not wanting to be in his body any longer, but a sharp yank to the leash had his eyes flying open to meet Amatsu’s sharp gaze reflected in the mirror.

“Don’t look away.”

There was an unspoken threat in those words, and Fuwa didn’t want to know what it was. As much as he didn’t want to, he kept his eyes open, watching Amatsu’s hand running along the length of his shaft. His body was trembling from the strain of staying upright, from the pain and humiliation of what Gai had done to him, and—worst of all—from the man who continued to pump his cock, coaxing him closer toward completion.

When he came, it was with a choked sob, and he watched his release shoot onto the rug. 

“Good boy.”

Then Gai was dragging him to his feet, leaning him over the edge of the bed, before he plunged into him again, drawing Fuwa’s arms behind his back when he tried futilely to struggle, pressing his wrists to the small of his back.

Somewhere in the midst of the assault, Fuwa’s mind finally gave in and dragged him into welcome darkness.

*

“Fuwa-san? Fuwa-san!”

Fuwa sluggishly came back into consciousness, and he flailed his arms when he felt someone touch his shoulder, thankful that he seemed to have control over his body again. Even if it felt as though he had the worst hangover of his life, he thought to himself when he opened his eyes. Even with the windows in the office covered, it was still too damn bright.

“I’m uncertain as to why he was here in the first place. Security found him sneaking around, and I was simply trying to offer him hospitality and a solution to his concerns, when he tried to strike me. He’s a bit…volatile, wouldn’t you agree? It was merely self-defense. I don’t wish to bring the police into what was surely a misunderstanding, which is why I contacted you instead.”

“I…see.”

Fuwa sure didn’t see. What the hell was Amatsu talking about? God, he felt groggy…what had happened..?

“Geez…he got you good, Fuwa-san. That almost looks like rug burn on your face.”

Fuwa had been in the process of letting Aruto help him to his feet, when those words slammed home everything that had happened. It hadn’t been his imagination, or a bad dream. Now that he was standing, he could feel the discomfort spreading through his lower body. His neck was sore from that damn collar, but if there were any marks, his shirt collar or coat were hiding them, since no one had pointed anything out.

But his face…yes, it had certainly been pressed against that rug when Amatsu had fucked him. He didn’t doubt that it resembled rug burn, because it _was_. 

And here was Aruto, looking at him with a mixture of concern and exasperation, because that bastard Amatsu had woven some bullshit story about what had happened. And Fuwa was enough of a loose cannon for the story to be taken as truth.

Fuwa shoved Aruto away, quickly turning away, intending on marching out of the office as fast as his still-shaky legs could manage. He didn’t notice the look of alarm on Aruto’s face, didn’t know that the young man had seen what looked suspiciously like tears brimming in Fuwa’s eyes.

Because in that moment, Fuwa remembered something Amatsu had whispered into his ear before he’d passed out.

”Keep your mouth shut, or next time, perhaps it’ll be Hiden that I invite in for tea.”

Fuwa took another shaky step for the door, before Aruto was at his side, slipping Fuwa’s arm around his shoulders. “Izu, can you get the other side?”

Izu had been looking at Fuwa with an odd expression on her face, and all he could think was ‘ _she knows_.’ Of course she knew; Humagears could probably detect things like drugs in a bloodstream, right? But that threat toward Aruto sent chills through Fuwa’s body, and he shook his head curtly at the Humagear. Hopefully she would not press the matter.

She did not. She simply came over and assisted Aruto in helping Fuwa from the room.

And he swore he could feel Amatsu’s eyes on him the entire way out, certain that if he looked back, he’d see that bastard watching them with that irritating smile on his face.


End file.
